


Warm, Safe Place

by Grandmungus



Series: Jack/Shittyverse [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24311875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grandmungus/pseuds/Grandmungus
Summary: Jack's been known to struggle with losing, but something about tonight just hits differently.
Relationships: Shitty Knight/Jack Zimmermann
Series: Jack/Shittyverse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777450
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	Warm, Safe Place

A Shutout.

A fucking SHUTOUT loss to the Bruins, IN BOSTON.

As if the Falconers losing streak couldn’t have gotten any worse.

Jack has his head in his hands. The room he’s sharing with Tater in the hotel is cold, dark and quiet save for the faintest buzz from the alarm clock on the shared bedside table in between the beds. 

Jack can hear Tater’s snoring from the bed next to his. It’s soft, rhythmic, Jack tries to link his breathing with his, to do something, ANYTHING to get it to slow down. 

Spoiler alert: It doesn’t work.

Fuck.

Jack shifts from his spot on the edge of the bed where he’s sitting, fumbles in the dark for his phone. He pulls it close to his chest as he unlocks it to keep the light from pouring into the room. No matter how he feels, Tater deserves to rest.

He exhales, breath shaky. The numbers on the alarm clock burn into his vision, the only source of light. The red LED of the numbers catch on an orange bottle resting on his side of the nightstand. The small writing on the bottle is blurry, but Jack doesn’t need it to be clear to know what it says.

Jack’s chest tightens. He bolts up off the bed, nearly tripping over Tater’s shoes. He grips his phone tightly in his hand, curses to himself as he bumps into the bed. The shade pulls back, moonlight spills into the room. He grips the handle to the balcony door with his free hand open, throws it open in a frenzy, like the room is on fire and it’s his only chance to escape.

The night air hits Jack’s bare chest and he shivers, freezing in place after taking the first big step outside. The wind blows through his pajama pants and straight to his core. He curls in on himself, leaning against the window next to the door. He brings his phone to his face, nearly fogging it up with his breath.

He taps the screen a few times. It rings.

“Jack?” Shitty answers after the third ring. Jack counts just to make sure it actually rang and that Shitty has actually picked up.

“Hey, Shits.” He says softly, voice more timid than he can stand.

“Brah, it’s late, what are you-”

“I miss you.” Jack cuts Shitty off. He feels a tear hit his chest, shivers harder.

“Jack?” Shitty sounds more awake now. Concern seeps from his voice. 

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize. Do you need me to-” Shitty starts the question Jack is hoping to hear, the one he NEEDS to hear.

“Yes, please.”

“Text me the address, I’ll be there.”

“Stay with me?” Jack pleads. He feels pathetic, like they’re back at Samwell and nothing’s changed. 

“‘Course.” Shitty says. Jack hears him throw the covers off, kick something, swear and then drawers opening and closing. “You still with me, Jacky?” 

“Y-yeah.” Jack nods. He’s always hated when Shitty calls him that, but it hits differently today. “I gotta be quiet for a couple minutes, Tater’s asleep in the room.”

“I’ll turn the radio on in my car so you know I’m still here.”

“Thank you.” 

Jack slips back into the room. He grabs a hoodie that was tossed onto a chair, tugs in on, leaving it unzipped. He hears Shitty’s car start on the other end of the phone. Soft Dad Rock fills the silence. Sweet Child O’ Mine. Time slows, Jack feels warm. It reminds him of the summer right after graduation. 

Tater stirs, rolling onto his back. Jack snaps his head in the direction of the sound, goes cold again, guilt already setting in, but relaxes when Tater’s snoring starts up again.

Jack stuffs his wallet and room key into the pocket of his hoodie before darting out the door and into the hall. Once the room door has firmly clicked shut behind him, he exhales sharply. 

“Jack?” 

“Yeah, I’m-I’m here. Thought I woke up Tates for a second, got scared. We’re good.”

“I should be there in a few, where should I go?”

“I’ll….come meet you in the lobby.”

“Brah, I look like a homeless person, and that’s a nice ass hotel, you think they’re gonna let me in?”

Jack can’t help but laugh. 

His body without instruction, down the hall over to the elevator. He pushes the button once, twice, three, four times. The song on Shitty’s radio ends, and the guitar to Barracuda starts. Jack hears the words “Ooooooh, barracuda” escape his lips, and Shitty has started to full on sing along. The elevator dings, the doors slide open.

Thankfully, it’s empty.

The door slides shut, Jack presses the button for the lobby. Leans against the back wall of the elevator. Shitty is singing the guitar parts of Barracuda now. Jack takes a moment to zip up his sweatshirt. For a split second, he doesn’t register that the doors to the elevator have opened. As they’re halfway closed again, he curses, sticking his bare foot out to stop the door.

It’s late, but the woman from when they checked in is still behind the reception desk. She offers him a smile and a friendly wave, and he does his best to return the gesture. He settles into a couch in the lobby, close enough to the door so he can stare at it. Shitty’s music is gone now, but Jack can hear footsteps for a few seconds before they stop abruptly. 

The few seconds of silence drag on like an eternity, Jack can feel the static in his head growing louder. It’s been so long since he last heard it, he forgot how nauseating it was.

The doors to the outside slide open, and Shitty steps in. He’s got a Samwell sweatshirt, basketball shorts and flip flops on. His hair is messy, shaggy but nowhere near as long as before he got the chop their senior year. Jack sees him and his heart skips a beat.

“Excuse me, sir, You-” The receptionist starts, but Shitty ignores her, makes a bee-line to Jack.

Jack has his arms spread to his sides quicker than he thought possible, and Shitty in his lap, arms wrapped around Jack’s waist. Shitty presses his forehead to Jack’s, and Jack grabs onto Shitty, holding him closer.

“Breathe for me, Brah.” Shitty says after a minute, and Jack takes a deep breath. Shitty reaches up, wipes a tear from Jack’s eye. “I’ve got you, I’m here.”

“I’m sorry, I just-” Jack starts, gears in his brain grinding to find the words. “I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Jack.” 

“I’ve been...having a rough time.” Jack says softly, and Shitty can feel him shaking in his arms. He presses a kiss to Jack’s forehead.

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not here, too open.” Jack shakes his head in protest.

“We could go back to your room.”

Jack opens his mouth to protest. His phone cuts him off. He hesitates, fights with himself, but ultimately takes a moment to reach for his phone. One missed text from Tater that reads “Going for walk?” with the emoji of the woman in the red dress. Jack’s never had the heart to correct Tater that she’s dancing, not walking. 

“Guess he won’t mind if we go talk, then?”

“Yeah, I guess….”

“We can sit in my car?” 

“We’ll go to the room.”

“Wh-Brah! What’s wrong with my car?” 

“It’s freezing out, did you ever get the heater fixed?”

“No…” Shitty looks away.

“And, it smells like feet.”

“N-no, not since I found the old socks under the seat and threw them out!”

Jack laughs, hugging Shitty tighter. “You’re unbelievable.” 

“Jack, come on.” Shitty tries to get Jack’s attention back to the matter at hand. “It’s so late the sun’s gonna come up soon.” 

Jack sighs. Shitty has a point. “Okay, c’mon.” Jack stands, Shitty lets out a yelp and clings onto him like a koala. 

“Warn me next time!” Shitty chides as he slowly lowers himself to the ground. He takes Jack’s hand. “Okay, show me to this fancy hotel room of yours.”

“It’s...really not that fancy.” Jack sounds sheepish. He leads Shitty out of the lobby, back up the elevator. The trip takes half the time Jack remembered it taking to come down just a few minutes ago. 

The door to Jack’s room unlocks with a click that seems to reverberate down the hall. Jack inhales sharply. 

Tater is sitting up as Jack and Shitty enter the room. The light on the bedside table is on, and he’s humming, scrolling on his phone. He turns at the sound of the door opening, offers a smile. “Zimmboni! I worry when you not in bed.”

“Sorry, Tates, I-uh, I needed some air?”

“I see you bring back friend! Is long time, no see Mr. Shit!” 

“Hey Tater.” Shitty nods. He feels Jack squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back in response.

Tater can sense the tension in the air, he frowns. “You need me to give you space?”

Jack hesitates. Bites his lip.

“Is okay, I don’t mind! I know time with boyfriend is important, private conversations!”

“Thanks Tater, could you please?” 

“Yes, I go take my own walk, maybe see if cute girl still at desk in lobby.” Tater grins, tugging on a pair of sweatpants. “Text me when you are done.”

Jack nods, sits down on his bed. He swears he can feel the weight of the entire building shift as the mattress moves under him. Shitty sits next to him, practically drapes himself over Jack’s shoulders. The room’s spinning slows. Jack’s heart beats out his chest, Tater moves across the room and out the door in slow motion.

Jack nearly crumples over once Tater is out of the room. Shitty scoops him up, lies him on the bed and curls up around him like a cat. Jack stays silent as Shitty runs his fingers through his hair, whispering one of the songs he heard from the car radio earlier.

“Shits.” Jack says after a while. His voice is soft, like he’s afraid of actually being heard. “I’m the worst.”

“No, no you’re not.” Shitty shakes his head. “You’re my boyfriend and I love you.”

“Well, I’m a terrible boyfriend AND a terrible hockey player. It’s my fault the team’s been doing so poorly, and now look! It’s like 5 in the morning and I made you drive here because I was having a panic attack over it.”

“Yes, and I would’ve done it even if you were more than like 15 minutes from my apartment.”

“Why?” Jack sounds desperate, overwhelmed, genuinely confused. 

“Brah, did you not hear the ‘you’re my boyfriend and I love you’ thing I just said?”

“But you could do better?” Jack doesn’t mean to phrase it as a question. He knows he means it at face value.

“Jack Laurent Zimmermann, I do NOT believe what you just said. I will shower you with so much goddamn love and affection you’ll have some left over for your entire NHL team!” Shitty is adamant. 

Jack makes a noise of protest as Shitty cups his face and starts kissing him. Starts with his forehead, then the tip of his nose, and finally once to each cheek. 

“Smile for me? Please?” Shitty’s voice is soft now, but it’s enough to make Jack melt. Jack tears up, but a smile creeps onto his lips. 

“Shitty, I love you, but-”

“No, no buts. There are no buts except that fantastic ass of yours.”

Jack lets a chuckle out. 

“Jack, I will tell you this as many times as I have to. You are sweet, talented and I love you. I know what your mind is capable of making you think, of what it says to you, but I’ll always be here to talk over it.”

Jack leans in, and Shitty closes the distance. The kiss is soft, gentle, and it warms Jack to the core. He can tell he’s tearing up again.

Shitty pulls back, just the slightest bit, and reaches up to wipe the tears away. “Jack-”

“Happy tears, Shits.” Jack clarifies. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“Brah, c’mon, like I could ever say no to you.”

“Shit, the sun’s gonna be up soon. I’m sure I’m keeping you.” Jack changes the subject suddenly, glancing over at the still-open curtains to the balcony. 

“I have afternoon classes today, Brah, besides, I’d skip every class if you needed me.”

“Do not, I would feel incredibly guilty.”

“Jack, you always feel guilty for people taking care of you.”

“Well yeah…”

“Jack, do I have to use your full name again to let you know how serious I am?” 

Jack laughs again, hugging Shitty. “Will you stay with me a little longer?”

“I’ll stay with you as long as you need, and then some.”

Jack grows quiet, shuts his eyes. He inhales softly, the smell of Shitty’s shampoo lingers. The same kind he’s always used. As questionable as the man’s hygiene can get, he has always been on top of keeping his hair looked after, though, Jack wouldn’t exactly say he missed Shitty’s flow.

“Hey.” Shitty says after a bit.

“Hm?” Jack replies. He’s close to sleep, now, it’s an incredibly relieving feeling.

“Once the season’s over, and once I’m on break from class, we should go somewhere. Just the two of us.”

“Yeah.” Jack nods into Shitty’s chest. The Samwell hoodie he’s wearing is soft, familiar. “I’d love that.”

Shitty’s humming again, even softer than before. Sweet Child O’ Mine. Shitty is warm, his arms are Jack’s “warm safe place”, those lyrics playing is his head as Shitty hums along. The door to the room creaks open. Jack doesn’t look up, he can tell it’s Tater.

“Zimmboni asleep?” He whispers.

“Just about. Sorry we woke you up.” Shitty replies, voice still soft, almost like he’s still humming.

“Is no trouble. Zimmboni one of my best friends, as long as he is okay, am good. Plus, I had to use bathroom, anyway.”

Jack smiles. He can hear the pair talking softly, but the words aren’t clear. He hears Shitty chuckle, feels his chest shift against his face.

“You two very in love, I can tell.” Tater says as he sits back on his bed. Jack is snoring softly, arms still wrapped around Shitty. 

“Yeah, Jack means the world to me.” Shitty’s smile is soft. He runs a hand through Jack’s hair and Jack lets out a content sigh.

“Next time he upset I text you right away. He has habit of insisting he’s better than he is.”

“He’s always been stubborn, but I love him for it.” Shitty rolls his eyes. Old habits really do die hard.

“You ever think about marrying?”

“Sometimes.” Shitty nods. “A lot, actually. I might have some plans in mind when we’ve got a good amount of time alone.”

“Can I be best man?” Tater’s eyes light up. 

“That is a Jack question, my man.” Shitty smirks. “Lardo would kill me if I didn’t ask her to be my best woman.”

“Well, I buy best gift, then. Show support for my friends.”

“Appreciate it, big guy. Thanks for keeping an eye on this guy when I can’t.”

Tater nods. “Is no problem. Now, no more talking, you sleep too.”

Shitty sighs, eyelids heavy. Maybe Tater has a point. He kisses Jack’s forehead, closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't kidding about Jack/Shitty rarepair hell. I had to include Tater being a good friend, supportive teammate and all around angel, because it's what he deserves.


End file.
